


My Brother's Keeper

by Goldenheartedrose



Series: Asexy April [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual!Sherlock, M/M, Post Reichenbach, References to Suicide, Reichenbach Falls, Reichenbach Feels, bisexual!John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenheartedrose/pseuds/Goldenheartedrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John mulls over his loss with Harry just three weeks after watching Sherlock jump from the roof of St. Bart's.  He never thought he would be having this conversation with her -- of all people.  But somehow, she is the perfect person to talk with about his loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I miss him, Harry.”  John stared into his coffee mug, its contents only tentatively sipped.

“I know you do, John.”  She stared at her brother, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“I just don’t understand.  I think if I could understand why…”

Harry shook her head, wisps of her auburn hair softly hitting the side of her face.  “I don’t think that would make a difference. When my mate Elizabeth…well, when she…” Harry’s voice trailed off and she cleared her throat.  “Anyhow, she left a note and it didn’t make a bit of difference.”

“Harry, he was so logical.  Yes, he did mad things, some things that I didn’t truly understand, but in the end, there was always a reason.  That’s why _this_ makes no sense.”  John nearly spat out the words.  His anger was apparent in his gruff voice, choking down the tears that threatened to fall.  He was stronger than that; he didn’t need to let his sister see him cry.

“Sometimes…there isn’t a reason. Sometimes… it’s just not clear cut.  Was he always so open with you, really?”

John snorted.  “No.  He certainly wasn’t the most open person I’ve ever met, no.”

“Maybe he was fighting against himself.  Maybe it just became too much.”

John nodded, took a small sip of coffee, and set the mug down again on the café’s dark table.  “He always complained of being bored.  Of his mind going a million miles a minute and needing to have something to occupy his time. I don’t doubt that he was – struggling.”

Harry reached a soft hand to cover her brother’s, running her thumb across his wrist.  John squeezed her hand.  “It’s okay to be sad, John.  He was an important person in your life.”

John sighed.  “He was.”

“Can I ask – it’s not any of my business, but I wondered…”

John held up a hand.  “It wasn’t like that.”

“It’s okay, you know.”

“Harry, he wasn’t gay.”

“Neither are you – you’re bisexual.  There is a difference.  I’m not totally ignorant on these things, you know.”

John rolled his eyes.  “Of course you’re not.  But no – Sherlock was asexual.”

“Oh.”  Harry gulped her tea, not knowing how to respond to that news.

“We were – we were close.  We didn’t shag.”

“Didn’t that get a little boring?” Harry regarded him curiously, not really knowing what to say.

“Life with Sherlock was never boring.”

“But didn’t you want to –“

John sighed, realizing that they had wandered into awkward territory. “No.  He offered a few times.  But no.”

“Were you in love with him?”

John shut his eyes, drawing in a labored breath, willing himself to not cry.  Slowly, he nodded.  “Of course,” he began, his voice breaking.  “Of course I was.  No – that’s wrong.  I am still in love with him.”

“I’m sorry, John.  Is there anything I can do?”

“Was there anything I could do when you left Clara?”

Harry sighed.  She hadn’t wanted to think about those days.  Thankfully, she and Clara had eventually reconciled.  That didn’t make the time they spent apart – divorced – any easier.  “No.  Nothing really helped.  The counseling, the meetings – no. Sorry.  That was a stupid question.”

“It’s okay. I mean – none of this is okay. I just – I don’t know what to do now. It’s difficult to believe that he’s gone.”

“Do you need some time away from the flat? You could come stay with me.”

John smiled, his first real smile since this ordeal had begun 3 weeks ago.  “Thank you, Harry.  I appreciate the offer.  But no, I don’t think that would help much.”

“Okay.”  Harry nodded.  “The offer stands, though.  If you ever need…to get away.”

“Thank you.”

Harry smiled, looking at her brother.  His eyes were dark and heavy from lack of sleep.  He looked far older than his 40 years.  She wished she could take some of his grief from him, but she knew from experience that he would need to work this out on his own. 

“Harry?” John asked, pulling her out of her reverie.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad that – well, that you’re here.  And that we can – you know, talk.” 

Harry just nodded.  “Me too.”

“You look good, by the way.”

“Yeah? Thanks.  Stressful time of year.”

“I can imagine.”  John nodded and drank his coffee. 

“Are you sure you don’t –“

“No, thanks.  I’m fine.” He glanced at his watch and drained his coffee mug.  “I think – there’s something I need to do.”

Harry nodded.  No doubt her brother was going to visit Sherlock’s grave.  It might not really mean much.  She knew that some things were simply symbolic.  Signing divorce papers, speaking empty words to a marble gravestone.  They were all part of the healing process. 

“Do you need a ride? We could share a cab.”

“No, thanks, Harry. I think I’d prefer to walk.”

John stood, followed by Harry, and embraced his sister.  “Thank you.  I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  Harry smiled as her brother walked out of the café and bit her lip.  She hoped that he really would be okay.  Funny, wasn’t it? Just two years ago, they were in this same café, John attempting to get her to sober up.  She recalled how much it hurt to see how worried he had been about her.  And now it was her turn.  She didn’t know how much of an influence Sherlock Holmes had been on John’s life, but she knew one thing – he had made John’s life better.  She couldn’t fault him for that.

As she picked up her handbag and turned to leave the café, her mobile buzzed with an incoming text message.

_Take care of him, will you?_

Harry furrowed her brow at the unknown number.

 _Of course I will._   She replied quickly, hitting send.

_Good.  He needs you now.  –SH_

Harry gasped, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth. It couldn’t be.  No, that was impossible.  It couldn’t possibly be – 

Her mobile buzzed again before she even had time to finish that thought.

_You can’t tell him.  He has to believe the lie.  It’s for his own protection._

Harry nodded, a shiver running through her.  _Okay, s_ he texted back.  _But you have to tell me the whole story._

She waited what seemed like years for a reply.  _Deal.  There will be a car to pick you up in 15 minutes.  Remain where you are._


	2. Chapter 2

Harry gulped as the expensive looking black car entered her field of vision.  A well-dressed, attractive woman stepped out and opened the door, motioning for Harry to get inside.  She sat down and noted the man sitting across from her.

“You’re not – well, him.”  Harry choked out, her nerves quite apparent.

Mycroft Holmes extended a hand.  “Mycroft Holmes,” he introduced himself.

“Mycroft… _Holmes_.  You’re his brother.” 

“Well deduced, Miss Watson.”

“Thank you.  So your brother… is he?” She could hear the question in her voice and wondered if it was too timid.

“My brother lives.”

“And he thought breaking _my_ brother’s heart was wise, did he?”  She sneered at him.

“Quite the opposite, Miss Watson.  My brother, though not drive much by sentiment, does seem to have a soft spot for Dr. Watson.  He is extremely anguished by having to take this course of action.”

“I don’t understand why –“

“No, I wouldn’t imagine you would.  Try and see the bigger picture here, hmm?”

“You Holmeses and your great intellect.  Break it down for the peons?”

Mycroft smiled.  “James Moriarty was a very dangerous man.  A very important dangerous man.  He may be dead, but his associates remain.  And therefore, your brother would have remained in very grave danger had my brother not – well, ended his own life.”

“But Sherlock is alive.”

“Yes, he is.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’d like to think of it as a magic trick of sorts.”

“So you’re telling me that your brother fooled mine into thinking he was seeing something he did not, in fact, see.”

“That is a fairly basic analysis, but yes.” 

Harry sat back in her seat, her shoulders losing some of their tension.  Her eyebrows furrowed, and she regarded Mycroft with tentative disdain.  “But my brother isn’t an idiot, Mycroft.”

“No,” he began, smoothing the hem of his coat.  “John is not an idiot.  There were, ah, certain steps taken in order to ensure his ignorance of the truth.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t think I really need to know – well, everything.  It’d be better, I think, if I were left in the dark about certain elements of the ‘magic trick’, as it were.”

Mycroft nodded.  “If you wish.”

“I do have some questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Will Sherlock be returning to Baker Street?”

“Yes.  I have ensured that it remain partially his for quite a significant amount of time.”

“Oh.”  Harry hadn’t expected that answer.  “Hmm.  How long do you anticipate him to be gone, to keep on with this charade?”

“I’m afraid I can’t really predict that one.  Moriarty has quite the list of clients and associates. It certainly isn’t safe at the moment for Sherlock to come home.”

“I see.”

“So, Miss Watson.  Can I trust you to keep quiet?”

Harry nodded, her hands cold and trembling at the enormity of the situation.  “Y-yes.  I won’t breathe a word to my brother.”

“He is not to know.  If he were to know – both of our brothers’ lives would be in grave danger.”

“I understand,” Harry said, nodding.

“Good. Can I drop you off at your home?”

“I – uh, no.  I think I’ll just walk, thank you.”

“If you like.”  The car stopped back in front of the café that Harry and John had visited. 

“Thank you, Mycroft.” Harry nodded curtly as she exited the vehicle.

“Of course.  And Harriet?”

Harry wrinkled her nose at the sound of her legal name.  “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Hmmph.  Do tell him to hurry up, will you?”

“Yes, I will. I want to see this ended as much as you do.”

“I’m sure you do.”


End file.
